


safe in your taxi, your car, your train

by mag003 (MMagpieMcCorkle)



Series: wouldn't be scared (if you didn't look) [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Creepy, Dreams and Nightmares, Episode: e001 Anglerfish, Gen, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Relationship, Road Trips, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23788939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMagpieMcCorkle/pseuds/mag003
Summary: Nathan hears about the Magnus Institute, and figures it's as good a chance as any to talk about Old Fishmarket Close. His friend Michael takes the journey with him.
Relationships: Nathan Watts & Michael MacAulay
Series: wouldn't be scared (if you didn't look) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713835
Kudos: 3





	safe in your taxi, your car, your train

**Author's Note:**

> i love... the (majority of) statement givers... so here's this
> 
> cw: canon-typical creepy shit at some points, mention of death and heart-attack, implied/mentioned sexual content, c-word useage, others to be added
> 
> also apologies if i get any direction/travel details wrong, i've only got google maps to inform me of those things u_u double apologies if the dialogue comes off as inconsistent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan and Michael start their journey. They argue a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for this chapter: mention of death and heart-attack, disappearances

"Bit much, you reckon?"

Nathan shrugs, his hands clenched around the steering wheel. The car's something he inherited from his dad, may he rest in peace, and it's done good so far in the past five years it's been in the family. The necessary paperwork of handing it from deceased father to son was a pain in the ass, and it still gives him a headache just to think of it.

"'ey, Nath'--"

"Alright, Michael." He has to force his hands to relax, but only by hooking his thumbs under the ten-and-two positions of the wheel. There's no-one else on the road, not this early in the day (five in the fucking morning he decided to head all the way down to fucking London, and he could've taken the train and it'd take less time, even if only by two hours, shitting hell he could've taken a plane and it'd only be an hour and a half, but nah, by car, the thing his dad had a heart-attack in two days before his final breaths in hospital), but Michael's still giving him an uneasy look. The 'hallucination' up in Old Fishmarket Close still rattles in Nathan's head from time to time, and now that he's actually going to say something about it to some ghost-hunting hobbyists, Michael's loathe to just leave him to it.

He's loathe to talk about it at all. Talking about it was something that Nathan had tried to do, in the beginning, before shutting up entirely about it, but it was obvious he was reluctant to let it go. Well, both reluctant and willing, but Michael could tell it played on his mind. Some... anglerfish person asking for a cigarette, and then... snapping away into the dark. He'd always just put it down to Nathan being as pissed as a fart, couldn't tell up from down in his state when he'd left the Albanach, or if that, for some reason, didn't sit right on a particular day, he'd blame it on someone playing a trick on strangers.

To say _nothing_ of what he'd found on Nathan's computer regarding other disappearances around Old Fishmarket Close. Not that it was much, just a Google Document listing other disappearances and dates. Michael'd been tempted to delete it out of frustration, and then grabbing Nathan by the shoulders and shake him because he's still fucking obsessed with that shite that didn't even happen because he was just out of his fucking head, that's all!

No boogeymen, no monsters under the bed, no anglerfish people asking for a cigarette.

(He still thinks he should've done it, actually get in Nathan's space more aggressively, and maybe it would've spiralled out from a shouting match about Nathan's obsession to a screaming contest about all the petty shit that gets under both their skins like Nathan being the most annoying drunk and Michael being a pedantic knobhead about everything and so on and so forth and they'd grab each other with only the implicit _threat_ of violence, but instead...

It's alright to blame that silly, oft-unexplored daydream on Nathan, right? _He_ never admits to dreaming, or wanting.)

"... why're we going at five in the morning?"

"'We'?" How Nathan manages to sound so prim and so terse at the same time amazes Michael every time. "I didn't _invite_ you, I just said I'd be going to get it off my chest so I could stop 'obsessing' over it." Again, his hands seize around the steering wheel like it's the only way to contain himself.

"Oh aye, alright, like you wouldn't go back there just to check it out again."

Quiet. Except for the road underneath the wheels, there's no other sound.

"You're _joking_." He hopes Nathan's joking, or just pouting, or doing the silent treatment out of pettiness. "Tell me you're fucking joking." Still no response, aside from Nathan resolutely paying all his attention to the road and driving as carefully as some old grandad in a bunnet. "Nathan, you weren't going back to the--"

His stomach grumbles, long and loud. "Fucking hell, didn't realise I was actually this hungry."

"Bit early," Nathan mumbles, frowning a little. Then, "Did you eat anything at all yesterday?"

"Yeah." It sounds more like a question. "I had breakfast." At two in the afternoon. "And lunch." A sandwich at about... uh, six in the afternoon?

"Mmm." Then Nathan's stomach rumbles off, and they both laugh. Not particularly loud laughs, but there's an ease of tension, unwinding, decompressing. "Suppose we should've had something to eat first."

"Aye."

Nathan shrugs, his posture relaxed. "There's probably a service station not too far, anyway. Catch something to eat while we're there."

"Aye."

There's a grateful silence on both ends for the next thirty minutes. Michael only watches as the sky starts to lighten, despite the seemingly ever-present clouds, and listens to the way the car drives over the road, and the birds start their songs. When the sun starts to peak out, even with the clouds obscuring the most of it, Michael shifts in his seat and asks, again, "So why so early?"

"Wanted to get it over and done with."

"Didn't wanna go back there?"

Nathan shakes his head. "No," he says, quiet and heatless. Michael's relieved: no spark to reignite the snappy little arguments about this particular incident that they've had for the past two years. Christ alive. "Besides," Nathan says, a little louder as though to cover the slight tremble now evident in his voice, "didn't wanna go missing, either." A short laugh. Neither of them find it funny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: service station food, the A1, A1(M), and M1


End file.
